I rest my head on the headboard at that grim thought. “All the more reason they should find the killer soon, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” she responds. Then she falls silent.
“Hey, it’s getting late. Get some rest, Jo. You’re safe there at the hospital, and we won’t solve this crime tonight.”
I hear shuffling on the other line as if she’s repositioning herself. “Am I seeing you soon?” she asks, softly.
My heart tugs at her question. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow after practice. I’ll bring us dinner.”
“I miss you,” she said. And as sudden as her statement, she quickly hangs up the phone.
I grin from ear to ear. I’m so ready for her. Fuck, can tomorrow come already?
***
She stands in front of the mirror eyeing herself, curls cascading down her back. Through the reflection, I see her elegant neck and her smooth brown skin, glowing over her strapless black gown that flows all the way to the floor. She turns to me and smiles while placing a hand on her hip.
“How do I look?” she asks.
I bite my lip, trying to control my desire. Her slinky gown hugs her curves, emphasizing that tiny waist and that amazing cleavage, peeking over her heart-shaped neckline. She wears no jewelry except for a gold chain necklace with a small pendant hanging just above her cleavage gap. I walk over to her, as she pouts her ruby red lips. When I stop in front of her, I bend down to glide my lips from her clavicle to her neck, kissing and nuzzling that smooth skin. I hear her ragged breathing, coupled with an occasional sexy moan. Then I surprise her with a tiny bite just below her ear, and I hear her gasp with pleasure.
“Does that answer your question?” I ask, huskily.
She giggles and gently places her hands on my chest. “Ok, before we get carried away, let’s go. They’re waiting for us downstairs.”
I lift my head from her neck and furrow my brows. “Who’s waiting for us?”
She shakes her head and laugh. “Hello? Everybody.”
I stare at her blankly, making her roll her eyes. “Jeez, Jules. You’re forgetting already? Alexa’s cotillion? The reason you’re wearing that amazing tux?”
Now, I’m totally confused. “But, babe… uh… she’s dead.”
She looks at me in shock. “What are you talking about? Don’t be crazy. Let’s go,” she said, tugging my hand towards the door. As she moves passed me, the glint from her necklace catches my eye, making me curious. I stop her from moving further and tug her back to me. She glances at me with surprise.
The necklace looks familiar. The eye-shaped pendant with the purple gemstones. Where have I seen this before? I pick up the jewelry from her chest and smooth my thumb over it. “Where did you get this?”
“He gave it to me.”
I snap my head towards her because her voice sounds different. My breath hitches at my shock, and I back away. Lexie stands before me in the same outfit she wore the night she died. “What the hell? What’s going on here?”
She moves and grabs my wrist. My heart thuds against my chest at her icy touch and her silvery stare. “He’s coming for her.”
“Who?”
Then an alarm sounds in the room and everything fades. “Wait, Lexie! Who’s coming for her!”
My eyes open to the sound of my radio clock blaring and my ragged breathing. I’m in complete darkness, but I’m also in the comfort of my room. I sigh in relief. It was just a dream.
But I’m still queasy. I can’t shake Alexa’s message.
He’s coming for her.
Chapter 63
Julian
“Damn it!”
Zander looks up from his bag of potato chips, his blue eyes zeroing on me from across the coffee table. “You alright, man? That’s the third time you swore in the past ten minutes.”
“Sorry. I spilled my Gatorade on me again.”
He raises his brow at me. “Since when do you care? You’re wearing a black shirt, and Bianca no longer has you under surveillance.”
I smirk, but he has a point. Zander and I are in the student lounge during our free period, and I’m a ball of nerves. My dream got me on edge, and it had me calling and texting Jo every hour. She’s probably irritated by now, but I don’t care.
I lean back on the leather couch and furrow my brows. That necklace. Where have I seen it? I reach into the deepest recesses of my mind, hoping that I’ll find the answer.
“Bro, you are biting your nails all the way to your fingers. Disgusting,” said Zander. “What’s up, man? You’re fucking driving me nuts.”
I glance at my hand as I hadn’t realized I was gnawing on my fingernails. I stand and stretch to get rid of this nervous energy.
“Speaking of ‘bite.’ When is your grandma visiting you and hooking you up with her strawberry pies?” He pops another chip in his mouth. “That shit’s bomb, and I’d come over for that flaky, buttery crust.”
My eyes widen, and I slam my palm on my forehead. Of course! Jo found that necklace in Lexie’s closet and brought it with her to show to my grandma.
“Did you just facepalm yourself?” asks Zander. “Fuckin’ nerd.”
I smack him upside the head as I move passed him to get to the vending machine.
“What the hell!”
“Serves you right, asshole.” I slip my dollar bill into the money slot to buy a Pop Tart.
“Man, you’re lucky I’m trying to conserve energy for tonight, or I would’ve pounded your ass to the ground.”
“Uh-huh.” I retrieve my toaster pastry out of the takeout port, unconcerned. Zander is empty threats, and he means no harm. He’s deadlier to the ladies than to others with his voracious sexual appetite. “I am sure Sharon Patton will appreciate that.”
He laughs out loud. “Yeah, dawg! I heard she’s a legend, but so am I. Don’t call me tonight, brother. This bad boy is gonna be busy.”
Rolling my eyes as I return to the couch, I tease him. “This is why I never share food with you. I bet you’re giving me something right now just sitting across from you.”
“Shut the hell up. I’m clean, bro.”
“Whatever. I still ain’t takin’ any chances.” I take a bite off of my Pop Tart. In the meantime, he gives me a goofy grin as he grabs my stainless steel water bottle and pretends to drink from it. “Man, get your dirty fingers off my hydro flask!”
Zander guffaws at his joke, and I shake my head. Suddenly, the door to the lounge opens and in comes Dee. I look at her in surprise. Her flushed cheeks and the pronounced rise and fall of her chest signal labored breathing. She zeroes in on me and beelines towards my direction.
“Are you alright?”
She sits next to me, but she says nothing, so she can catch her breath.
“Take your time.” I said.
She shakes her head. “I need to speak to you in private.”
I nod. Then I turn to Zander and point to a recliner. “Yo, sit over there for a sec.”
He shrugs. “It’s gonna cost you.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, man.”
He reaches over to my side of the table and swipes my Pop Tarts. “And imma take this, too. Thanks, bro.”
I shake my head and apologize to Dee, but she doesn’t notice. “Ian, they released the results of the autopsy.”
My mouth drops at the news. “Ok, what do we got?”
She takes her phone out and places a finger on her screen to search for her cousin’s latest text. “Detective Brower shared plenty with her. They found scratched epithelial cells from her fingernail debris. What exactly does that mean, Ian?”
I furrow my brows. “When she clawed her assailant, her fingernails trapped the skin cells on her nail bed.”
Her hazel eyes darken as her eyelids twitch. “They developed a DNA profile from that, and it matched someone we know.”
I grab her hand in anticipation. “Who is it, Dee?”
Distress written on her face, she looks around the room. Then, she leans f
orward and whispers to me. “Brian…” she begins, and a flash of Lexie’s love letters and postcard enters my head—communications signed with a letter, “B.” She falters as if speaking the rest will endanger her, and she gives me a worried glance.
I stand up, adrenaline taking over my body. “Dee, what’s his name?”
She takes a deep breath and finishes. “William Brian Cunningham.”
Chapter 64
Josephine
“Alright, girl, you did real good. Now, you can rest.”
I slump on the bench as soon as Jen, my physical therapist, gives me the permission to take a breather. We had been doing gait training for an hour, walking around the grounds as part of my therapeutic exercises to regain my strength. She upgraded me to walk with a cane and told me that by tomorrow, I won’t need it anymore.
As I rest and appreciate the pleasant breeze, she places a pulse oximeter at the end of my finger to check my blood’s oxygen saturation. In the meantime, I’m enjoying this little sunken garden several feet away from the hospital. It’s secluded and gorgeous with these flowers and greenery.
“Looks good, girl. You’re doing a superb job.” She removes the instrument from my hand. “Keep this up and they’ll discharge you by the end of this week.”
I smile from ear to ear. That’s what I want to hear. I’m ready to blow this joint.
“Ok, let’s return to the gym.”
I look at her, disappointed. “We’re done?”
She laughs. “Yes, my dear girl. You’ve been walking for an hour.”
“It’s so nice out here. Can I stay longer?”
Jen bites her lip, her forehead creasing. She turns her head to the hospital. “I really shouldn’t leave you out here alone, babe.”
Disappointment made me sigh, but I resign and stand.
“I’ll keep her company.”
A voice directs our attention behind us. To my surprise, Mr. Cunningham is standing a few feet, holding a drink carrier with two iced coffees. My PT looks dumbfounded and then she eyes his face, his black coat and his fitted denim jeans. Then, she catches herself and angles to me with a raised brow. I nod. “Jen, this is Mr. Cunningham, my teacher—and a friend.”
She turns to him and smiles. “Nice to meet you.” She gives him a sideways glance. “I can’t leave her alone…”
He picks up the hint. “No worries. Like I promised, I will stay with her and take her to her floor when she’s ready.” He throws her a flirtatious little wink. She blushes and primps herself.
“That’s settled,” I said with a clap of a hand.
She turns to me. “Ok, sweetie. I’ll see you bright and early.” After a wave and one last glance at my teacher, she leaves and heads back to the hospital.
“Thanks. I have no interest returning to my room.”
He sits next to me and nods. “It is beautiful out here, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Then I furrow my brows. “What are you doing here, anyway? It’s only nine. Aren’t you supposed to be teaching?”
“I took the day off to handle my affairs. And…” he said, trailing off as he turns away from me. “I brought you a little treat.”
“Is that iced coffee I see?” I lick my lips in anticipation.
He hands me the cup with the telltale condensation on the surface. “You can’t have stimulants right now, so I got you something close. This bad boy only has two milligrams of caffeine.”
“Decaf?” I wrinkle my nose as I hold it up in the air.
“No way! Might as well not consume coffee,” he says with disgust. “Dave and Dax’s famous chocolate milk.”
I smile. “Excellent choice. Thanks, I appreciate it. What are you drinking?”
“Same. It wouldn’t be fair, would it, if I’m over here enjoying a smooth dark roast while you’re there sipping a kiddie drink?”
“I wouldn’t care.” Tugging my straw, I take a sip, enjoying the decadence of my chocolate milk. I enjoy it more than expected, and I slurp the creamy treat halfway through the cup.
“Thirsty, are ya?”
I laugh. “That was delicious.” Then, I smack my lips several times and crease my forehead.
“What’s wrong?”
“It tastes different. There’s an interesting after taste.”
He freezes then takes my drink from me. “I think you got mine. I’m so sorry, Jo.”
“What’s in that?”
He peers at me, his face turning red. “I slipped Baileys Chocolat Luxe in it.”
My eyes widen, and I laugh. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
He rubs his neck and looks concerned. “Not you. Me…. Shit.”
I place my hand on his arm. “No worries. Though, I gotta admit. That’s freakin’ delicious.”
He groans. “God, what kind of teacher, am I?”
“A cool one.” Then, a chilly breeze hits me, making me appreciate his mistake as the alcohol warms me up from the wind.
He turns to me. “Let’s go for a walk. The exercise will warm us up a bit.”
I button my cardigan to block the icy blast. “That sounds nice. I’m on a mission to be home by the end of this week.”
He chuckles and stands. As I hold my cane, he offers his hand to help me up from the bench, and I take it. We meander around the grounds, chatting. It is a lovely walk, and it’s good to be outside instead of being cooped up in a sterile room. As we stroll, I note my surroundings—the flowers, the squirrels running up the trees and the golf course to my right.
Then, I see the parking lot. I wrinkle my nose and wonder how much we’ve walked. We’re far from the hospital, and no one else is here but us. I shrug off the momentary eeriness that crept up on me, so I can continue to enjoy our walk. Meanwhile, my companion notices nothing and continues to share a funny story that happened while having dinner with his grandfather, Mayor William Wall.
Though enjoying the conversation, I yawn as sleepiness overcomes me. I check my phone for the time. “How long have we been walking?”
Mr. Cunningham creases his forehead. “Hmm… I believe about fifteen minutes. Are you feeling tired?”
“A little. I don’t know where this sleepy spell is coming from.”
He looks at me. “I hope not from the Baileys.”
Relax.” I chuckle. “I also was just released from the ICU, so I’m going to fatigue fast.”
He smiles. “Thanks for making me feel better.”
“That’s not my first time drinking alcohol, you know.”
“I know, I know, but still…”
But a sudden dizzy spell takes over, and I lose my balance. He grabs my arm before I fall to the ground. “Uh, how many ounces of Baileys did you drop in your drink?”
The Night Orchid Page 41
